Audrey Ashira

Archive for July, 2010|Monthly archive page


In freewrite, poetry on July 24, 2010 at 5:46 pm

I am jealous
Jealous of the silence
Jealous of the absense
and the words you’ve yet to write me



In freewrite, poetry on July 23, 2010 at 10:46 pm

the glance across the room
like a rope
like gravity
like an ocean between you and me

when will you return?

In freewrite, poetry on July 23, 2010 at 5:06 pm

I can’t wait to hear, my dear
Where you’ve been
Where you’re goin’

The days are long
Sittin here
Waitin for you
Not knowin

When will
You return?

I remember
Your arms around me
I remember
the day you found me

Deep inside my eyes
You draw me out
Into the light

When will
You return?

“Reality is irony”

In freewrite, poetry on July 22, 2010 at 12:01 pm

Reality is irony;
And thought
Takes human form
In this:

when I say goodnight

In freewrite, poetry on July 20, 2010 at 9:17 pm

when i say goodnight
i can see the bugs
spinning around the porchlight
shining on a two man band
in a feild of stars

i can hear the whisper
feel my hair twisting thru the grass
and the squeeze
on my arm
that makes everything inside me
and melt at once

when I say goodnight
I can feel you
in the porchlight
with your arms around me
for a minute
before I close the door

Exerpt from The Tireswing: Spinning

In Stories I haven't written yet on July 20, 2010 at 10:22 am


The sight. The sensation.
That’s what I remember the most:
Spinning on the tireswing.

.Push me, Sam.

And she did.

Trees. Cerulean sky. Em in her cotton-candy-pink dress in the branches above me.



.You’re doing it wrong.
Joe’s skin tanned dark as coffee stains, dark as leather.

/grabbed the rope.

tripping sensation


/let go

flying sensation

depth in my stomach.

inches from collision.

giddy fear.


/strong hands

/grabbed the rope

Jay had steel-string calloused fingers that built fences.
Eyes like the rope and the water and the sky.

.Do it like this.



tingling anticipation.

/let go


this moment

In freewrite, lyrics, poetry on July 19, 2010 at 8:53 pm

We are shooting stars
Dying breaths
Words we’ve said

We are ticking clocks
Aware that we will stop
And there will be no more sand to slip
And no more earth to stand on.

I am dead. You are gone.
And we never yet met.
Words and music
Laughter and song
We’re a dying quartet

When there is no more to be sung
And we have no breath left
Remember, remember
And don’t forget
This moment


In freewrite, poetry on July 19, 2010 at 8:26 pm

Heartbreak is a myth to me:
Rushing blood
A shattering
Broken eyes
Dry mouth
Losing the will to live.

I see it in the public square
In the stares of boys and girls
They’re eyes cracked like a mirror

Missing is a habit to me:
Something learnt long ago–
You don’t begin to miss someone for at least a week
You don’t actually miss them for at least a month
You don’t miss someone for at least two months
– maybe three
It isn’t till after that
that you long for someone

That’s been my experience.

Heartache is immortal, I have found:
Constant as the pounding of your heart
When apart – a lonliness that fills you
Together – a hunger that can kill you
You live off their laughter and you die from their pain

Love is intrinsic to me:
It’s the heartache and the missing when apart
And a thing that consumes you
And ties you to another person’s soul
Through both your eyes.
The beautiful broken melody
The dart that peirces you.
Losing yourself in them
Till there’s hardly any of you left
And yet more to you than you had ever known before.

Separation – the breaking the tie, the losing their eyes…
I’m aquainted with that.

But love is still intrinsic
Heartache still immortal
They say you can brake a habit…
maybe their right….

But heartbrake
Heartbrake’s still a myth to me.

I know only of Love.


In freewrite on July 19, 2010 at 6:12 pm

When you’re writing – really writing
You’re lost in it

and your heart
and your soul
and your being
are spilled out on the floor beside you

You have to gather yourself together
to re-enter reality


In freewrite, poetry on July 19, 2010 at 10:51 am

the stars are out
the third one finally arrived
and I’m writing you a letter
praying this won’t die.

wish me to you,
to the water>
to the ferris wheel>
to the architecture
of your eyes.

you said heaven was a place of trees.
wish me to the forest of your dreams.
I’ll show you how to play the beat/
You’ll show me how to move my feet.
and we’ll teach the forest how to sing.

wish me to the open road.
to the small house
of stars and railroad ties.
One -track- minds can make it through
wish me to you